Migraine
by Sapphire1112
Summary: One shot. Just a dose of 'happy, happy, happy' to counteract all that sadness in the winter trailer they've just released! I do not own the characters. Strachamp.


It had been a few weeks since _'the cupboard'_ happened and though Connie was still _refusing_ to acknowledge her _fiercely_ reignited passion for Sam, to his absolute delight, they kept sharing little 'moments'.

She'd go to pick up something at the same time as him and their hands would _accidentally_ brush _or_ She'd be studying some patient notes at reception, and Sam would deliberately _'find'_ a reason to walk past her. Then he'd casually trace his hand lightly along her back as he went past. He took great pleasure in the _reaction_ he got from this. It wasn't a big enough reaction for anyone else to notice, but Sam felt Connie shudder at the sudden unexpected contact and he _knew_ that although she had her back to him, she was in no doubt about _who_ had touched her. There were plenty of occasions when Sam caught Connie watching him or _vice-versa_. A couple of times the two of them inadvertently made eye contact – and on _those_ occasions, he managed to get a smile out of her.

One day, _quite out of the blue_ , Connie put herself on cubicles along with Sam – much too his surprise. It was uncharacteristic of Connie. As a highly skilled consultant _and_ the clinical lead, she liked to do the 'big' jobs in resus.

"So...er, what do I owe this pleasure?" Sam commented.

"As clinical lead, I feel _duty-bound_ to set an example by showing the department that I'm not above treating minors." Connie replied dryly. "Especially the ones in the department who _repeatedly_ complain about such things!" She added eyeing him pointedly. "I don't suppose you know who _that_ would be, Mr Strachan?! Come on – we've got a patient."

" _Yes ma'am!_ " Sam saluted at her.

She shook her head at him – covering him with imaginary frost as she did so. " _Don't call me ma'am. It makes me sound like the queen!_ "

They reached the patient and she checked the notes. "Hello Mrs Benn-"

" _Mrs Bennett_ " the elderly patient interrupted in a sickly-sweet voice.

"Mm-hm, yes – Mrs Bennett. I'm Mrs Beauchamp – this is Mr Strachan. We shall be looking after you today. So what seems to be the-"

It's my _ankle_ , you see." Mrs Bennett interrupted again. "It's _terribly_ painful."

"Right, I see. I'm just going to examine it and then-"

The old lady interrupted a third time. "He's very _quiet_ , isn't he?"

"What- _who_?"

The patient glanced up at Sam, then back at Connie and leaned towards her. " _Your par_ _t_ _ner._ "

"Oh." Connie glanced up at his bemused face. "Yes, well, Mr Strachan only _speaks_ when he's spoken too.."

"Ah – a _silent_ _prince_!" Mrs Bennett remarked. "It's the silent ones you have to _watch out_ for."

"mm-hm." Connie answered vaguely – much to Sam's _amusement_ , as she began to remove the patient's sock.

"Oh, they _are_ awful things, aren't they?"

Connie looked up at the patient and narrowed her eyes slightly. " _What are?_ "

"Socks." the old lady clasped her hands together. "I know they keep your feet warm, but they're _awful_ in the bedroom!"

Connie glanced up at Sam's smirking face. "Are they?"

"I _remember_ the late Mr Bennett had a _dreadful_ habit!" Mrs Bennett carried on. " _Every time_ – the socks came off _last_! It was _terrible!"_

"That _is_ terrible" Connie answered stonily.

Mrs Bennett suddenly looked up at Connie. "Have _you_ ever had that problem with a man?"

" _No._ " She answered abruptly, glaring at Sam as he stifled a snigger.

"And _coats.._." The relentless patient continued.

"What?"

"They're not very _productive_ in the bedroom either."

Sam couldn't help himself this time. " _Do you often wear a coat to bed?_ " He snorted.

Connie smirked at him, but the old woman just ignored his comment. "Coats and socks – they just _get in the way._ "

"Right – your ankle is _certainly_ swollen, Mrs Bennett, so I'll-" Connie began.

"Does _he_ take his socks off last?" Mrs Bennett gestured at Sam – who was trying _desperately_ not to laugh.

"Why don't you _ask_ him?" Connie remarked dryly. "I'm sure he'll _answer_ if you speak to him."

The old woman turned to Sam. "Do you..." she said. "...take your socks off _last_ when you have sex?"

Sam went bright red. " _No._ "

" _Good boy!_ I _like_ you!"

Connie smirked at Sam's look of disgust. "Right, Mrs Bennett, I'm going to send you for an x-ray. I'll be back when we have the results."

" _You_ could've answered that question yourself!" Sam chuckled to Connie, back at the reception desk. "You know _perfectly well_ I don't take my socks of last!"

"Yes, indeed." She responded. "But the temptation of seeing you get all _embarrassed_ by an old lady was just too much to ignore!"

"You're a cruel woman, Mrs Beauchamp!" Sam chuckled again.

Sam was rather disappointed when Connie later refused his offer to accompany her when she went to explain Mrs Bennett's results – stating that she wasn't sure that she could trust him to _'stay in control'_ of his emotions around that particular patient.

"So, how did it go?" He commented when she got back afterwards.

"It's a good thing you weren't there, Mr Strachan!" She remarked. "I had _chapter and verse_ of Mr and Mrs Bennett _first time_ \- all the _grisly_ details!"

"Urgh!" Sam turned a bit green.

"Aren't you _lucky_ I stopped you coming with me!" Connie chuckled.

Sam glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, before moving closer to her. "I _love_ that you care!" He whispered in her ear.

"And who says it's _you_ I care about, Mr Strachan?" Connie retorted with a smirk. She walked off into her office.

Connie heard the door close and spun around to see Sam closing the blinds. " _What do you think you're doing?!"_

"What do you _think_ I am doing?" Sam responded – echoing his words from in the cupboard and leaving Connie in _no doubt_ of his intentions.

" _Seriously,_ Sam?" She retorted, "In my _office_?"

"mm-hm, _why not?"_

"Well, I don't know - because someone might _walk in!_ " She exclaimed.

"Could that be _why_ I locked the door?" He quipped, grinning wickedly. "Anyway, _that_ didn't seem to bother you _in the store room_."

"You _could_ say I had other things on my mind in the store room!" Connie commented. "Don't you think our colleagues might be a _teeny_ bit suspicious that we're _both_ in my office with the door _locked_ and the blinds _closed_?" She pointed out.

Sam sandwiched her between him and her desk. "Well, Mrs Beauchamp, this is _your_ office, so you can do _whatever the hell you want!_ " He chuckled, peppering her neck with light kisses.

"I'm not sure that having sex on the desk is _what_ _Hanssen_ had in mind, Sam."

"Who said _anything_ about the desk?" Sam mused – aware that his next comment was going to annoy her. "The sofa is my _personal preference_ , darling!"

" _Don't ever call me darling again!"_ Connie hissed at him.

" _Shut up_!" He chuckled pulling her lips against his...

There was suddenly a knock on the door. They broke apart on the sofa.

" _Don't._ " Sam mouthed at Connie, fumbling with his shirt buttons.

She smirked at him. "It's _probably_ our daughter!" She got up and moved to the door as Charlie called through it.

"Connie, Grace is here."

Connie opened the door. "Hello sweetie, how was school?"

"Great thanks, Mummy. Do you know where Daddy is? - only no one seems to know!"

In the corner of her eye, Connie saw Sam hurriedly finish doing his buttons back up. "Yes. He's in here, sweetie."

Grace burst through the door and threw herself at Sam. "Hi Daddy!" She giggled.

Connie chuckled and turned back to Charlie.

"Why are the blinds _closed_?" He asked suspiciously.

"Sam had a migraine." Connie answered without hesitation. "He said he feels better now – but he's been lying down in a dark room."

"I'm sorry to hear that Sam. I'm glad you're feeling better." Charlie commented – poking his head around the door.

They watched him leave. Sam chuckled as Connie sat down on the sofa.

" _Nice save!_ " He whispered in her ear.


End file.
